


TITILLATION

by Misfit_McCoward



Category: Bleach
Genre: Awkward Romance, Cute, F/M, awkward heteros touching eachother, contains no sex much to the dismay of everyone involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 14:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17468945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misfit_McCoward/pseuds/Misfit_McCoward
Summary: “Are you…” he asked, and his eyes flickered over to the romance novel, propped open to page 142. “...titillated?”(Ulquiorra and Orihime experiment. They're not very good at it.)





	TITILLATION

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this about nine months ago. I reread it today and liked it, so I figured I'd post. 
> 
> It's in some sort of AU where Ulquiorra survives and... lives in Orihime's apartment...... :)

It just didn’t make any  _ sense _ . 

Orihime had read tens of romance novels in preparation. She’d made Ulquiorra read her favorite ones. They had one propped open on the coffee table. This was supposed to feel good, dammit! Amazing! 

It just sort of felt like… a hand. On her boob. That’s all it was. 

Ulquiorra was staring at his hand on her boob. She’d like to think he was concentrating, but he was wearing the same expression he always wore, so it was hard to say. Slowly, his gaze drifted up to her face. 

“Are you…” he asked, and his eyes flickered over to the romance novel, propped open to page 142. “...titillated?”

“No,” Orihime admitted. Ulquiorra’s expression remained unchanged, which meant he stared very intensely into her eyes. 

His hand didn’t move and she squirmed under it. This was… well. Orihime knew she had a great pair of tits. She’d been told so many, many times. She’d gotten enough comments and advances to know this was supposed to be sexy. And, well, she hadn’t really liked it then, but the girls in her romance novels loved having their breasts touched. It was supposed to be erotic! Intimate! Hot! 

Ulquiorra was still very patiently sitting there with a single hand on her boob. 

It had taken Orihime this long to work up the nerve to ask for this and she wasn’t going to give up now. She grabbed his other hand and moved it onto her other breast. 

Ulquiorra tilted his head ever so slightly in askance. 

“Maybe,” Orihime said, cheeks puffing in frustration, “if you squeeze?”

He did. Still nothing. 

“What are we doing wrong?” Orihime whined, leaning over to grab her book. Ulquiorra’s hands stayed firmly in place. 

It had been so  _ sexy _ when the man in the book had done it. The scene had made Orihime go all warm and twisty right in the pit of her stomach, and she hadn’t even been the one being touched. 

And now here she was, with a perfectly amenable and handsome man, who had agreed to touch her in any way she pleased, and she was getting  _ nothing _ . 

“M-maybe,” Orihime teetered out, setting the book aside, “if you… if you go under the shirt…?”

She was red. Ulquiorra blinked very slowly. 

“If that’s what you want,” he said. She nodded furiously. 

He leaned forward, which–  _ yes _ , that was good– and set one hand on her hip while the other carefully slipped under the hem of her shirt. The rough pads of his fingers on bare flesh made her squeak, and he paused. 

“Was that a good noise or bad?” he asked. 

“Good,” Orihime squeaked again. “Very good.”

The scrape of the cuff of his shirt sleeve felt absolutely torturous as it drifted up her stomach to her rib cage and Orihime was ready, so ready to  _ finally _ –

It was still just a hand on her boob. 

“Oh, come on!” she said to the outline of Ulquiorra’s hand under her shirt. 

“Do you want me to,” Ulquiorra started to say and then stopped. Cutting himself off was a rare sign of nervousness, and the fact that her was anxious behind his mask of indifference made Orihime feel a bit better. “Go… under your bra…?”

Orihime sighed. “No, I think,” she snatched the book back up again and buried her face in it, “I think we’re doing it wrong.”

There had to be something wrong, if the hottest part of this so far was Ulquiorra’s shirt on her skin. Maybe she should tell him to do it again. Or– no– having your belly rubbed wasn’t sexy!

Ulquiorra’s hand stayed under her shirt while she read the passage out loud, presumably because he also didn’t know what to do. 

“What if,” Orihime proposed, “we try this part here, where she touches _ his _ chest…?”

Ulquiorra aquiescessed by pulling his hand back and removing his shirt. It… just sort of looked like him taking off his shirt. Orihime squinted suspiciously at his pectorals. The girl in the book had been instantly turned on by the sight of her lover’s burly chest. Ulquiorra’s chest just sort of… looked like Ulquiorra’s chest, hole and all. 

She snuck a peak further down his abdomen. Women in books were always lusting after– oh, there  _ was _ hair down there–

Orihime’s eyes snapped back up to his face, cheeks burning. He was watching her intently, his posture loose and unbothered. 

Well! If he didn’t mind!

She slapped her hand down on his chest. 

He stared at it. She stared at it. They both stared at it. 

“I see how you felt unsatisfied,” he remarked. 

“I just don’t understand,” Orihime said, fanning her fingers out, “I researched this!”

Should she touch his nipples? Would that be weird? Or would he like it?

“H–how do you want me to touch you?” she asked.

“I thought you wanted to follow your book,” he said. 

“I thought it would be helpful…” She pouted up at him. She knew she very much wanted to touch him, and for him to touch her back, to feel like the girls did in romance stories. She just didn’t know  _ how. _

He stared down at her. She trailed her fingertips across his skin and he shivered. 

_ That _ was hot. She kept going, one hand tracing his clavicle and then the curve of his neck into his hair, the other cross his chest and brushing his hollow hole–

He grabbed her wrist, a strange huff escaping him. He wasn’t rough, but his grip was firm.

“Good or bad?” she breathed. 

After a pause, he said, “I don’t know.”

He stared down at her hand, as if it were a curiosity he’d never seen before. 

“Can I...” he started, then stopped. He stared at her, green eyes as intense as always. The corners of his lips tugged a fraction of a centimeter into something that was neither a smile nor a frown, but was a wild show of emotion for him. 

“I’ve never heard your heartbeat,” he said finally. 

“Oh,” said Orihime. “Oh. Yes. Of course you can.”

Orihime had sort of imagined the evening ending with her crawling into  _ his _ lap, but Ulquiorra leaning over her and bending to press his ear to her chest was still pretty good. 

And. Well. She managed to snake her hand around the horn of his mask and pulled him even further into herself, pulling his body between her knees and drawing out another weird little huff from him, so that was even better. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> CUT FOR NOT BEING A CUTE ENDING: 
> 
> His arm tightened around her waist. “Maybe,” he said, voice muffled, “next time we can read that book the shopkeeper gave us.”
> 
> “I don’t want to read Urahara-san’s porn,” Orihime objected.
> 
> “Hmm,” Ulquiorra replied.


End file.
